


Right hand, green

by nupoxsi



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Based on a Tumblr Post, Brotherly Love, Dorks in Love, Fluff, M/M, Sibling Incest, Twister - Freeform, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nupoxsi/pseuds/nupoxsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They play Twister to pass the time. Bård learns that Vegard can truly be a little shit when he wants to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right hand, green

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hi :) This is based on [this post](http://hellevangs.tumblr.com/post/107228575891/otpprompts-imagine-your-otp-playing-twister-and), which my friend tagged me on. I found the urges to write it too hard to resist, so here it is. Sometimes I suck at describing so please keep in mind that the colours on the Twister mat go green-yellow-blue-red from left to right, and this from Bård's POV :) 
> 
> Many thanks and kudos for [Abigail](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kolaflor/pseuds/Kolaflor), who beta-read this. Ilysm.
> 
> Disclaimer: nothing is real, all is a work of fiction, etc.

“Hold on,” Bård says as he notices Vegard’s enthusiasm, the older brother almost vibrating with energy in place as the grin on his face grows a little wider. “Don’t you have to stand in the other end of the mat?”

He takes a brief peek behind his back and turns back to face Bård again, smiling broadly. They’re all gathered together on a ‘day off’ —or at least that’s what Bård likes to calls the days he doesn’t have to be at the office with his brother till six o’clock and gets to leave early—, hanging out at Calle’s place to get their mind off things for a while. They’ve been at the flat for at least four hours now, and after playing video games, the boys grew considerably tired. After a brief discussion of what to do next, Magnus was the one to point out there was an old Twister box tucked in the only bookshelf at Calle’s flat, and all of them decided to play it after having a couple of beers. None of them were drunk enough to excuse themselves for playing Twister at nearly ten PM, but really, who cares? Bård still finds it hard to believe he accepted joining the rest of the group to play the damned game, but Vegard really knows how to sweet-talk him into doing anything. _Like going to that aerospace museum in America for the second time in five days_ , a voice in the back of his head reminds him. How can Vegard shamelessly deny he has an unique kind of charm that works finely on Bård? He will never get tired of pointing it out for Vegard, not until his stubborn brother finally accepts it.

He was reluctant about playing Twister at first, but now that they have played four turns and it’s down to the Ylvisåker brothers to decide who the winner will be, Bård can admit he has been having quite a great time, especially after watching Magnus make Vegard lose his balance in the last round and watching the two crumbling down in the progress. Second win of the day, now all he needs to do is to beat his brother to call himself king of Twister for the night, a title he is quite worthy of. And well, the loser has to bear the task of driving to the 24/7 kebabs store that’s only four blocks down the street and buy dinner for the rest of the players.

They have been taking shifts to decide who gets to be the referee on each turn, and it didn’t take them much to settle for a system that works flawlessly. Three players would be on the dotted mat while the remaining player takes over the job to spin the arrow and call out all of the movements. Bård was the referee the first time, then Vegard, then Magnus and Calle was the last one. So now that is time for the tiebreaker, Calle decided he’s going to be the referee once more, while Magnus marched towards the kitchen looking for something eatable in Calle’s fridge, claiming they were taking too long and he was starving. In turn, now Bård stands less than three steps away from his brother, left foot on the yellow circle and right foot on the blue one, a line of red dots to his left and a similar green one to his right.

“I _am_ in the other end of the mat,” Vegard replies after taking a brief moment to tease Bård with mere looks, now smirking playfully at him.

“You’re not!” Bård immediately complains with a lifted eyebrow, pointing an accusing finger at his brother. “You’re supposed to stand one row back than the one you stand on, not _there_.”

The man with dark curls shrugs. “I am shorter than you, it’s my right as older brother and shortest person in the room to skip the first row of circles.”

“But it’s not a secret you’re flexible enough to reach whatever circle you need to.”

“Oh, you sure know a lot about my flexibility,” Vegard says softly with confident wink, words that are only for Bård to listen, and the blond man bites his tongue right after some memories flash in the back of his mind. _Vegard sure is flexible when he wants to_. Hell, Bård hopes he’s not blushing now. “Don’t you?”

“Still not an excuse to break the old and sacred rules of Twister.”

“I’m not moving.”

“Unbelievable! Our friends and family always say I’m the little shit, but then you do things like this and you always get away with it.”

“That’s because you _are_ a little shit. I’m just adorable.”

The words ‘ _you are_ ’ get stuck on his throat. It’s the moment Vegard smiles one of those heart-warming smiles that Bård wishes they were alone in the apartment so he could both punch and kiss the smile off his brother’s face. _Though he would probably keep on smiling if I tried to tackle him to the floor_ , Bård thinks to himself as he retrieves the red headband that’s been tied on his wrist ever since the morning. Lately his messy hair has been getting out of control, even more than the usual _I-can’t-control-it_ kind of hair days, but rather than paying the hairdresser a visit, Bård discovered some weeks ago that a headband would do just fine. And so, he puts the red headband on to keep the strands of hair falling over his eyes.

“Shall we proceed now, lads?” Calle calls from the couch he is resting on. “I’m getting bored.”

“Oh yes, we shall, Carl Fredrik, sir,” Bård mocks in a deep british voice, to which his friend replies showing him the middle finger, causing both Vegard and Magnus, who has returned from the kitchen with frozen pizza, to chuckle unstoppably.

“Okay, let’s see…” Calle’s voice trails off and Bård watches him flicker the spinner. He also gets to shoot a quick glance at Vegard to find him staring right back, the brown eyes looking at him with an expression that speaks without the need of words. _‘Are you ready for it?’_ they inquire, and Bård replies with a wiggle of his eyebrows before tearing his gaze off him to turn towards Calle. “Alright. Right foot, yellow.”

Bård follows his friend’s instructions and moves his right foot from the blue circle to the yellow one. Then, he jerks his head up and looks at Vegard. The raven haired man has never looked brighter before, the curls bouncing as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and stays in place. Bård gets to distinguish the satisfaction spreading on his brother’s face as all he has to do is take one step forward without having to get into a strange or difficult position. However, Bård now stands with both feet on the yellow row of dots, left foot in front of the other. He doesn’t know whether it’s the way Vegard is smirking at him when he looks up or the pressure of having three sets of eyes on his as he keeps his legs aligned, but he almost loses balance the moment he straightens himself on spot.

“Having problems, _solsikke_?” Vegard teases playfully, and Bård can’t stop himself from reaching forward and slapping his brother on his arm with an open palm. “Hey! That’s cheating.”

“Well, it technically isn’t,” Magnus calls from across the room as he holds up a slice of pizza. “He wasn’t trying to make you fall, so that can’t be considered cheating.”

“Thank you, always loyal and dear Magnus.”

Laughter can be heard in the ample living room. Bård nods his head as he feels victorious for getting to punch his older brother. There’s something about playing with Vegard that’s different than playing with anyone else. The round that he lost to Vegard he blames it on the way his brother bent over in all four in front of him, which was very distracting at the moment of deciding which green dot was closer to his left foot. The black pants his brother wears fit perfectly and give his butt the right shape, one that Bård _really_ appreciates. Calle and Magnus are rather oblivious to some of the heated looks the brothers share from time to time while they are in their friends’ company, yet they wouldn’t truly feel distressed if Calle and Magnus knew about them. _I know they’ll find out eventually_ , Vegard told him a couple of months ago without many worries, which is a good sign, considering Vegard has always been the one to worry sick about being caught. _Maybe we can tell them if they take too long to figure it out, I trust them_ , the older brother added the same night as he rested his head on Bård’s chest. Either would be okay. Bård knows neither Calle nor Magnus would be against them or judge their decision to be together, their friends are rather used to their close relationship and it wouldn’t be a shocker. _Not entirely, at least_ , he reflects.

But now he must focus on the game. He wants to win this, and he knows that so does Vegard. Bård finds their rivalry exciting, and his enthusiasm only grows bigger as he notices Vegard is as amused with this as he is, even if for different reasons. Whilst Bård’s mind is working with all the possible chances to have Vegard pressed up against him, his brother might be feeling so lively because it is well known he is the most flexible out of the two of them. _Which always comes in handy_ , Bård thinks to himself with a trace of mischief.

“Bård, Vegard; left foot, blue.”

Bård looks down. Okay. That means he is a bit yet not entirely fucked. He’s gotten into weirdest positions earlier that night, so all he does is move his left foot to the blue dot that’s parallel to the yellow one. Bård’s gaze drops down at his feet again and curses under his breath. Rather than advancing or bending over, he now stands one step forward from the standard position with his legs crossed. He glares at his brother to find him carrying a cheeky grin on his face.

“Are you kidding me!?” Bård whines out loud and rolls his eyes at no one in particular. He knows that both Vegard and Calle are looking at him, while Magnus is too busy with the slices of frozen pizza he brought to the living room. “All Vegard has to do is to take a step forward!”

Vegard shrugs, the loosen and white V-neck he wears revealing a bit more of his collarbone with the action, and _who_ gave him the right to so damn adorable? “I guess I am just lucky.”

“Let’s see who’s gonna feel lucky when this is over,” Bård hisses, the usual competitive instinct kicking in. He wants to kick the smugness out of Vegard’s face, but only with kisses. _Though a small punch would also work_ , Bård reflects.

“Okay.” Calle clears his throat loudly, causing both brothers to turn at his direction, and the next thing Bård knows is that the spinner is going round in circles very quickly, slowing down within mere seconds. Their blond friend looks up from the cartoon on his lap and his blue eyes shift from one brother to the other before speaking up. “Right hand, green.”

Before Bård has the chance to adjust himself and reach for the green circle, his eyes follow his brother’s swift movements with caution. Vegard is still smiling as he arches his back and stretches his right arm to reach for the green dot. It’s a rather comical sight, just as if Vegard was but a child trying to do the bridge for the first time. For a brief moment Bård thinks his brother is about to fall down, sparing him the bothersome task of sprawling himself over his brother to reach for the green circle that’s placed beside Vegard’s curls, but the raven haired man doesn’t even shake in discomfort once he finds out how to keep his balance on all three, left hand resting carelessly on top of his abdomen.

Bård looks down at both of his crossed legs and back at the row of green circles. He hesitates for a moment before making any movement. If he picks the coloured dot below Vegard’s, which is the nearest at his reach, he is most likely to fall due to an excessive and absurd need of balance, so he picks the one that is merely above the one Vegard keeps his hand on, having to keep his body steady as a hammer as he stretches his right arm long enough to touch the green circle on the mat. He feels his arm trembling a little bit as he gets used to the new position, his body slightly curved upwards and half of his body between Vegard’s legs, their stomachs briefly brushing together. Bård flexes his left arm behind his back in order to gain strength and keep his composure. He won’t give up easily.

He is about to tell Calle to keep calling out the movements, but before he can even speak, a tingling sensation on his lower abdomen makes him hyper aware of the person below him. His brother has a smile on his face that carries a familiar trace of malice, even in the childish and seemingly uncomfortable position they’ve gotten themselves into, and it’s only when he feels it again that he realises what’s going on. _That fucker_. Vegard’s left hand is trapped between their bodies, and as if to take advantage of the unusual situation, his brother is slowly brushing his warm and callous fingers right over the sensitive skin of Bård’s abdomen. _Fucking Vegard_ , he knows where to touch, knows the effects his hands have on Bård, even if it’s only one and their bodies are in strange positions.

Holding his breath, Bård immediately searches for his brother’s brown eyes, and he has to fight the urges to punch him with his free hand when he gazes upon those eyes he knows so well that are now full of mischief. Vegard’s curious fingers adventure a little bit down, and Bård’s breath gets caught on his throat when two fingers brush his skin for mere seconds before getting into the elastic band of Bård’s blue boxers.

It’s only then, when the adventurous fingers hover over the sensitive skin that Bård fails on keeping balance and crumbles down, falling heavily on top of his brother. His feet slide on the slippery plastic and brings Vegard down too. His older brother’s legs are on each side of Bård’s hips, and their arms are pressing against each other. They land heavily on the mat with a small thud, Vegard both moaning and giggling once they are down. In turn, Bård groans in annoyance, though no harm comes to him. Vegard has a rather comfortable body to fall upon.

Magnus is the first to speak after they clumsily slipped to the ground.

“And it seems we have a winner!” The tallest of them exclaims with great excitement and points at the two brothers lying on the mat.

“Ow,” Vegard whines from under him, now throwing both arms over Bård’s back. “That hurt.”

“No pain no gain,” Calle says with a small chuckle.

However, as Bård still lies with practically all of his body pinning Vegard down, he gives an indignant sigh. “Vegard cheats and you two celebrate it! Incredible!”

“I didn’t cheat,” his brother offers with a smug smile.

“Like hell you didn’t!”

“Well, _I_ did not see Vegard cheating,” Calle chimes in, “so as the referee, I proclaim Vegard as the winner. Congrats!”

“Thank you, Calle,” the black haired man says, and Bård can’t help but to knee Vegard’s thigh. Their eyes meet and Bard is able to see the hurt expression on his face, to which he responds with a pleased smile. “Ow! Stop hurting me.”

“I will if you stop cheating!”

Magnus and Calle are laughing at the usual brotherly quarrel, and Bård takes advantage of the moment to push himself with his feet so his face is at level with Vegard’s. He sees the change on his brother’s face, how the expression goes from carefree and happy to completely flushed. His intentions aren’t to kiss Vegard, but he sees the thought crossing his brother’s mind in the reflection of his eyes. Bård simply giggles and settles for throwing his head into the crook of his neck, pressing a light kiss on his skin that’s out of sight from prying eyes.

“Relax,” he whispers. Vegard is usually the one who worries from time to time about being known, and so Bård always tries to ease all of his worries in one way or another. “Weren’t you happy you won?”

“Of course I am happy,” he replies. “I’m a champion, the best champion.”

“A _cheater_ , you mean,” Bård rectifies.

Vegard simply giggles underneath him and doesn’t seem to be bothered to keep on arguing. It’s plain as a clear day that he made a dirty move, but the older brother takes it with ease, whilst Bård shakes his head in reply. Not that his main focus was to win the whole thing in order to win his brother —that was simply a bonus that came with winning—, his main goal was to be able to get Vegard into a position that’d be both awkward and pleasant to see, and what’s better than having him pinned underneath his body and with both of his arms thrown over Bård’s back? It’s as gratifying as winning at Twister, he realises. Nevertheless, he is not about to admit it out loud, his pride doesn’t allow him to, so he’ll continue with the indignated façade on, which he knows Vegard will find funny and make his friends laugh.

He takes a look at the couch Calle is resting on to notice their friends aren’t really paying attention to them anymore. Calle’s left the spinner at the end of the couch and is now clutching an Xbox controller in his hands. Magnus is standing in front of the television, going through the several games Calle owns. Magnus is probably looking for something to play other than shooting games, but they’re probably going to end up playing Call of Duty, anyway, Bård knows them far too well. In spite of being okay with the position they caught themselves in —or at least that Bård is, resting on top of his brother’s comfortable body—, he knows they can’t stay like that for long, so he grants himself the satisfaction to place a row of small kisses on half of Vegard’s jawline. His eyes catch the way his brother’s adam’s apple bobs up and down as small giggles escape his mouth, and he can’t help but to feel pleased in that moment.

Bård lets himself enjoy the moment for a small fraction of time before getting up from the ground, feeling Vegard’s arms slip from his shoulders as he ducks and proceeds to stand up. He stretches his arms behind his back and feels his bones cracking and muscles stirring. One look at his brother makes him find out his brown eyes have been set on him the whole time, and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively before slightly leaning in to offer Vegard his hand, which he gladly accepts to jump back on his feet.

“God, I need to take a piss,” Vegard announces, earning a TMI-look from his younger brother. “Shut up, I’ll be back soon.”

“I didn’t say a thing.”

Vegard simply snorts and the corners of his mouth curve upwards into a silly smile. He pats Bård’s shoulder before turning around and heading for the hallway. “Yes, you did.”

Without saying anything in reply, Bård allows his gaze to set on his brother’s body as he moves. He’s thankful his friends are busy with the video game, because he gets round to stare at his brother’s ass as he walks away, and just before turning towards the hallway, Vegard takes a look over his shoulder and their eyes meet for a brief second. _He’s such a little shit_.

Bård turns around and takes a couple of steps closer to the couch. Magnus and Calle are sitting side by side, both holding an Xbox controller on their hands and their eyes practically glued to the screen. Soon the shooting coming from the game can be heard as Calle turns the volume up.

“Are you two seriously going to play videogames now?” Bård asks, hands on his hips.

“Yes,” Magnus replies without looking away from the television screen. “There’s no pizza left. We’ll play until you bring our kebabs.”

“But—”

“No buts, Bård,” it’s Calle who speaks now, hissing a little as he presses random buttons on the controller. “Bring food.”

The blond brother takes a last peek at his friends on the couch before turning on his heels and disappearing into the hallway. They’re too focused on the video game to give a shit about him right now, so with nothing else to do or say, Bård opens the door that leads to the guest bathroom. Unbelievably it’s unlocked, so he doesn’t have a problem turning the handle and walking in. He finds Vegard standing in front of the mirror, fixing his hair with wet hands.

“Hey, I’m—”

“It’s okay,” Bård hurries to say before Vegard gets to push the door closed out of mere instinct. “It’s me.”

“Oh, Bård!” With a warm smile, Vegard looks at him through the reflection in the mirror before turning around and facing him. “What’s up? Do you need the keys of the car to drive to the store?”

“Ha-ha, very funny, Vegard. I’m not driving to the store,” Bård says stubbornly, taking a step forward so there are but few centimeters between them. They are using Vegard’s car that day, and his brother takes advantage of the situation by suggesting that. “You know that wasn’t a fair result.”

Vegard also takes a step closer and they are suddenly very close. “You fell, therefore, you lost.”

“But you tickled me! Of course I was going to—”

Bård has a point to prove because he knows he is right, yet before he gets the chance to speak his mind Vegard’s lips are crashing against his own and it’s impossible for him to finish the sentence, words dying effortlessly on his throat. Vegard’s lips are soft and wet and Bård can’t seem to remember the frustration he felt for losing. The kiss is quite hungry and hot, and Bård feels Vegard’s hand taking hold of the back of his neck to keep him in place as he deepens the kiss.

“God, I’ve been wanting to do that ever since you beat Calle and Magnus,” Vegard bursts out a little out of breath once they break apart.

Bård’s eyebrows go up in surprise. “But that was the second round we played.”

“Hmm…” Vegard smiles and presses a small peck over his mouth. “I know.”

“You have no remedy, do you?”

“No, but I beated you.”

“I would have beaten you too if you hadn’t tickled me.”

“I wasn’t tickling you, Bård,” his brother says with ease, and moves his other arm to throw it over Bård’s shoulder. Vegard hooks both arms on his neck and leans closer, his breath hot on Bård’s face. “You just looked pretty good trying to keep your balance while you were on top of me. I am really not to blame in here.”

Bård chuckles. “Really?”

“What can I say?” He shrugs. “You are cute.”

Bård smiles at the compliment and takes it as a cue to plant a big kiss on his brother’s cheek. “Do you want me to blow you?” He teases his brother with a question in a low yet seductive voice and jerks his head back only to see how flushed his brother’s face is and—   _bingo_.

As expected, Vegard’s cheeks are burning up, a red blush covering them and spreading to both his ears and neck. Often enough, Bård loves making Vegard flustered on a daily basis; there is something about glaring at him like this that makes Bård feel incredibly good. Vegard actually deserves to be teased after behaving like an eight years old.

“It wouldn’t take us long,” Bård adds with a small yet promising smirk, his hands trail down to grab the belt loops on his pants and bring him even closer. “I could make it fast for you so they won’t notice our absence.”

In turn, Vegard holds his gaze for some seconds before giving that silly giggle that makes him sound like a teenager in love and bringing both of his hands to rest over Bård’s chest. They actually feel so warm even if they rest over the fabric of his sweater, Bård cannot help feeling happy and quite pleased with the contact.

“I don’t doubt that,” Vegard replies happily in spite of the proposition and the colour on his cheeks. “But we should wait 'till we get home so I can also return the favour.”

The younger brother gives a small chuckle and nods in agreement. “I can see your point.”

“Hmm…” Vegard purrs as he leans in to press his lips on the corner of Bård’s mouth. “Though I can’t deny it would be exciting to fuck in here.”

“Yeah, this feels really _Lannisters-hiding-from-the-rest-of-the-people_ -ish,” Bård whispers with a small chuckle as he tugs Vegard closer.

“Oh Jesus, stop the Game of Thrones references,” the older brother laughs. “We’ve only watched season one.”

“And I really liked it,” Bård excuses himself and lets his head drop into his brother’s neck. He presses two light kisses on the warm skin and doesn’t bother pretending he doesn’t breathe in his scent in a big inhale. “I didn’t stop you from quoting The Lord of the Rings once the trilogy was over.”

“It’s Tolkien, Bård.”

“And it’s _whoever created Game of Thrones_ , Vegard,” Bård says back imitating Vegard’s tone as his lips brush the side of his brother’s neck. “Just as important.”

“Oh, that would be George R. R. Martin! Did you know that the TV show is based on books? I believe the saga is called A Song of—”

“Shh.” Bård jerks his head up only so he’s able to close the minimal distance between them and crash their mouths together. He feels Vegard’s smile pressed against his own lips as Bård kisses him a bit harder. “If we make much noise maybe a little Stark kid will walk on us and we’ll have to throw him off a window.”

“Hmm,” Vegard hums once they break apart. “ _The things I do for love_ ,” he quotes, imitating the british accent from the TV Show.

“Oh no, if someone’s gotta be Jaime.” Bård leans in to peck his brother’s lips. “That’s.” Another peck. “Gotta.” Peck. “Be.” Peck. “Me.”

His intentions are to peck Vegard’s lips one last time and draw back to take a look at Vegard with a smug expression plastered on his face, but once their lips meet, Vegard is suddenly tugging the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer, actually catching Bård’s lips in his own. Bård takes the cue to deepen the kiss, fighting not to let the smile spread wider in order to keep kissing his brother. They take a moment to actually enjoy the closeness they share Vegard’s hands still clinging to the fabric of the neck of Bård’s sweater, and one of Bård’s hands settling on Vegard’s lower back to keep him as close as possible. The kiss is quite heated yet slower than the previous one, and suddenly Bård feels the confined space they’re in to be closing in, the walls approaching them and the heat growing more and more as their lips keep moving together.

Once they draw apart, Bård finds it difficult to get air into his lungs. The sight of Vegard he gets is somehow breathtaking, even when it’s usual for him to get such sight after drawing back from a kiss. His lips, puffy and pink are slightly parted, a lost curl hanging loosely on his forehead, neck and cheeks flushed of a bright yet loveable red that makes him look younger, a peculiar gleam in his dark eyes that Bård has grown to love as much as a bright beam of sunlight after gloomy days. Bård likes the stubble that covers half of his face, and the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as his they stare at each other with twin grins garnishing their faces. Bård looks at him and wants to lean in and kiss him again, kiss him until their lips give up, until their tongues feel numb and their cheeks hurt from smiling.

Vegard is the best view he’ll ever have.

“So, if you are Jaime, does that mean you’re gonna take me from behind before attempting to murder an innocent child?” Vegard jokes with a smug expression.

“I like the first part better,” he confesses, and leads both of his hands to cup Vegard’s perfect buttcheeks and give them a playful yet encouraging squeeze. “Don’t you?”

“Night is young, if you hurry up buying the kebabs we can probably go back home soon and—” Vegard tip-toes to catch Bård’s lips on his own once more. Will they ever grow tired of it? _No_ , Bård thinks as their tongues find each other again, swirling and moving a little bit quicker. _I want this to never end_. “And we’ll see.”

“Hmm…” Bård’s hands get on the inside of the back pockets of Vegard’s pants. “Does that mean you are actually making me buy dinner?”

“I’m not making you,” he shoots back. “You lost, it’s only fair.”

Bård battles his eyelashes at him, kissing his cheek. “Are you coming with me?”

And he sees the answer in the way Vegard’s expression softens the moment their eyes meet again, reads the words in the wrinkles of his smile rather than on the sentence that is about to come out of his mouth. He knows his brother far too well, knows that since the moment one of them was doomed to lose, the other would gladly accompany the other on their defeat task.

“But you will be the one driving!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I _had_ to make the Game of Thrones reference after reading [this interview](http://www.vg.no/rampelys/ylvis/ylvis-vegard-egoet-blir-matet/a/10130913/), heh. And sorry for the abuse of italics in this work ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ couldn't control myself with Bård's inner thoughts.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this silly thing. Comments are highly apperciated (◠‿◠✿) !


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